What wakes you up in the night, Metaphor scenes or actual things When nothing is forgot little things Did we escape surrender, The ghost of the last grass that dusk sees. The city is so small our, Bodies are graves And we're turning Our garden of hearts have been burning Skin on fire When nothing is forgot ♪ Where words stay Nothing is forgot always The war of kings are whispers, Drowns in the woods, And the lowlands The city is so small our, Bodies are graves And we're turning Our garden of hearts have been burning Skin on fire ♪ When nothing is forgot Nothing is forgot Nothing is forgot Yeah Nothing is forgot ♪ Nothing is forgot Nothing is forgot Nothing is forgot ♪ Nothing is forgot Nothing is forgot Nothing is forgot